


Conflict Resolution

by tornandfrayed



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Bartlet Administration, F/M, Kleptomania, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tornandfrayed/pseuds/tornandfrayed
Summary: “He tells people that I escaped East Germany in a basket, and that he found me in a bush. He said I learned to speak English from watching reruns of The Love Boat.”“Oh c’mon, I told that to a guy from Politico, I didn’t think he would actually print it!”
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	Conflict Resolution

The end of session was fast approaching, and the deadline for bills to pass through committees had the senior staff meeting bright and early in Leo’s office. Sam, having skipped breakfast, inspected a bowl of fruit Margaret had left on one of the side tables as Josh wrapped up his bill packet presentation.

“It takes a special someone to have both the blue dogs and the yellow dogs howling at once, Josh.”

“What can I say, I really am something.”

“Leo?” Donna knocked softly on the office door, interrupting the meeting, “I wanted to let you know Dan Zuker from Senator Hill’s office is waiting in the lobby.”

Leo responded automatically, “Right, thanks Donna.” Then, after a beat, “Why do I want to know that Dan Zuker is in the lobby?”

Josh was staring at the doorway Donna had just vacated, and his head snapped back to Leo, “You don’t. That was for me.”

“Then why did she tell me?”

Josh gave an eye-roll and dismissive waive before shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s Donna, why does she do anything?”

Sam, having decided on a suitable piece of fruit, took a bite of the apple he pilfered from the bowl and informed the group, “They’re in a fight.” He took a bite and finished his thought, “Haven’t spoken since Friday.”

“ _Sam_!” Josh’s voice reached a new decibel of indignance, as he ran his hands frantically through his hair.

“I don’t care,” Leo said in his characteristic monotone without looking up from his briefing book. He leaned back in his chair and flipped to the next page before glancing harshly at Josh, “Well don’t keep Dan waiting. We need Senator Hill to get 483 through Ag.”

Chastised, Josh threw his hands up and swaggered out of the office towards the lobby, “I know, I know. I’m taking care of it.”

Sensing they had also been dismissed, Toby and Sam made to follow Josh, but before they could exit, Leo signaled them back into the room, “Toby, Sam.” Leo waived his hand vaguely in the direction of the bullpen, “Would one of you take care of whatever that is.”

Sam was confident, “483? It’ll sail.” Leo only stared silently. 

“What, Josh and Donna?” Toby scoffed, “It’ll work itself out… eventually.” Even as he said it, Toby realized Josh and Donna ‘working it out’ may have been exactly what Leo feared.

Leo sighed, “It’s the final week of the session and the last thing I need is some bored reporter publishing a story about the lovers’ quarrel in the West Wing and derailing the whole news cycle.”

Sam cringed, “‘Derailing the whole news cycle’ seems a bit strong—”

Leo returned to his briefing book, turning his back to his communication staff, “Just take care of it.”

Recognizing their dismissal, Sam and Toby retreated to the hallway, “So, you’ll meet with Josh and Donna?”

“Me?” Sam was indignant, “Why?”

“Because you’re the deputy.” Toby started walking backwards towards his office, leaving Sam standing rather lamely in the hallway, “And because I have to, I don’t know, do anything else.”

“Well I suppose I have been reading a book about interpersonal communication, this might be an opportunity to test what I’ve learned,” Sam said to himself.

“That’s great, Sam,” Toby called with his back turned.

As luck would have it, 438 did not sail. _You know, 90% of these Senators’ questions would be answered if they actually read the damn bill_. Josh, and by association Donna, was bogged down in meetings trying to force the bill through. _I swear to God, Senator Hill is on my shit list. I’m going to move to Iowa just to make sure he doesn’t get reelected_. As a consequence, Sam wasn’t able to stage his intervention until the final day of the session.

With Josh lounging on the couch with a beer, and C-SPAN playing on the TV— _If even one vote surprises me, Sam, I’m going to douse myself in gasoline and immolate myself_ —Sam sprung his trap.

“Sam?” Donna appeared in his office doorway, “You wanted to see me?”

“Donna!” Sam jumped up from where he was leaned against his desk watching the votes, and ushered her in, “Please, come in, take a seat.”

She stepped into the office but froze once she spotted Josh lounged on Sam’s couch, “Oh. I’ll just come back later—”

“Oh no you won’t—”

Josh stood and tried to flee from the confines of the office, “No, no, no, no—”

“I don’t have to do this right now.”

Sam leaped in front of Donna, blocking her from exiting the office, “Oh yes you do. Both of you sit down.” When neither of them made a move, he added more forcefully, “ _Now_.” 

With both Josh and Donna sat on opposing ends of the couch, Sam sat casually in his office chair, “Right,” Sam began gently, “so it’s come to the attention of some in the West Wing that the two of you have apparently had an argument.”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at Sam much like a petulant child, “So?”

Josh scoffed and leaned back against his corner of the couch, careful not to even look in the general direction of his assistant, “It’s the White House. People argue here all the time.”

“That’s true.” Sam hedged, “But you two don’t argue. Well not seriously. You two are friends. You’re more than friends—” Both Josh’s and Donna’s heads snapped to look at Sam, bug-eyed, looking mortified, or caught, or both. Sam rushed to amend his statement, “I mean you guys are best friends. That’s what I meant.”

Josh, for his part, had taken a keen interest in inspecting the California code books that had been collecting dust on Sam’s bookshelf, “Well why don’t you ask Donna, she’s the one that refuses to talk to me.”

Donna rolled her eyes, “Oh because of course it’s my fault.”

“I haven’t done _anything_. I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

Donna’s head snapped to look at Josh, “ _Nice_? You’re nice?” When he failed to look in her direction, she turned her ire towards Sam, “ _He_ tells people that I escaped East Germany in a basket, and that he found me in a bush. _He_ said I learned to speak English from watching reruns of _The Love Boat_.”

“Oh c’mon, I told that to a guy from _Politico_ , I didn’t think he would actually print it!”

“He has, on several occasions, smacked the folders I was carrying out of my hands.”

“She’ll be holding them perfectly,” Josh relished, “like they’re just waiting to be slammed to the ground. And, you know, sometimes there are people around and they’ll laugh. Or they have to laugh because, you know, I’m their boss.”

“He tells people I steal things!”

“ _That_ was funny. We were shopping for some new sunglasses for me, and she was looking at the case and I told the workers, ‘Watch out for her. She has sticky fingers.’”

The tone in the room had been steadily rising and sensing the intervention was beginning to get away from him, Sam tried to break in, “And how did that, uh, make you feel, Donna?”

“Like a criminal!”

He was beginning to think maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew when he decided to mediate a disagreement between America’s most dysfunctional non-couple. Still, Sam soldiered on, “Josh, do you see how that might make her upset?”

Josh waived his hand dismissively, “Yeah, I guess, whatever.” He turned to Sam, “Do I get to talk now? Is it my turn?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“I’ll ask her to bring me coffee and she’ll say yes, but then she’ll never bring me the coffee.”

“Ok?” Sam was having trouble seeing the equivalence between their respective grievances.

“And—and she is always leaving work early to go out on dates with whatever local _gomer_ of the week—”

“ _Early_? I leave at dinner time.”

“And let’s leave whatever we do outside of work out of the conversation.” There weren’t enough hours in a day to even begin to breakdown their ever-intertwining personal lives.

“But what if what we do outside of work affects work?”

“Well that’s a different story.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Josh adopted a tone of superiority, “and that’s the story _I’m_ telling. Anyways, she leaves to go out with these, these jerks—”

“ _Jerks_? You’ve never even met them!”

“I don’t need to. And anyway, she leaves before she’s finished the bill analyses, or the notes for my morning meeting.”

Donna groaned, “Sometimes I feel like I just have this mental block when it comes to assisting him…”

If Sam thought the tone in the room had been loud before, he sorely underestimated both Josh’s and Donna’s ability to yell. “What you mean, ‘mental block?’ You’re my _assistant_ you’re supposed to _assist_ me!”

“Oh, shut up. Have you ever not been completely prepared—”

“Okay. Okay!” Sam broke in, having to match their volume. He took a breath and let the energy in the room settle before speaking calmly, “Donna, what do you think would help you get over this ‘mental block?’”

“I don’t know. Maybe some positive reinforcement? And if he stopped being so, you know, passive aggressive,” she added with a hint of bitterness.

“Passive aggressive?” Josh’s voice was climbing in pitch, “I am not passive aggressive.”

“ _Really_ , Josh?” Donna began ticking off specific instances, “The social studies textbook. The NASA satellite. The flowers in April.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. That is not passive aggressive. If anything, I’m just regular aggressive.”

“See how his voice is getting all high?” Donna gestured towards the other side of the couch, “This is what happens when he’s confronted with reality.”

“You know, they don’t call me Bartlet’s Bulldog for nothing.”

“But Donna, you understand that Josh has a high-stress job.” Sam tried to reason, “That he does very important work for the administration.”

“Did you hear that?” Josh looked triumphantly at his assistant, “I do ‘very important work,’ that’s because I’m a very successful and powerful man.”

Donna threw up her hands, “Don’t even get me started on the _neediness_. I could do without his constant need to have his ego stroked.” Donna didn’t even need to look at Josh to know he was smirking, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you _dare_. You say that and I _will_ walk out of here and file an actual complaint.”

Josh leaned back, clearly failing to hide his smirk, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Okay.” Sam spoke slowly, not wanting to delve further into Josh and Donna’s inexplicable telepathic connection, “So, it sounds like, Josh, sometimes you do and say things that hurt Donna’s feelings.”

Josh’s head whipped around to look at Donna, “Hurt your feelings?”

“Yeah,” Donna’s tone made ‘ _duh_ ’ at the end of her sentence unnecessary.

“What?” Josh’s voice softened, “Why didn’t we talk about this before?”

“I tell you all the time. I tell you to stop, you know, telling people I steal dresses from Bloomingdales.”

“Well, you did steal that dress—”

“I _paid_ for it, Josh.” Her exasperation was evident in her voice, “Who cares if I was going to return it?”

Sam seized an opportunity to stall their snipping, “I think the stealing theme keeps coming up.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Josh eyed Donna suspiciously, “Why does it stick to you, this stealing thing?”

“I mean, I _used_ to steal.”

“You _used to_ steal?” Josh’s entire face lit up with unbridled mirth, “I was totally kidding around but this is—”  
  


Sam sat back, shell-shocked, “This is a breakthrough.”

“I stole some rings from a department store. I stole a pack of gum from the gas station. I stole some skittles from Blockbuster, a bracelet from Express. I stole _another_ bracelet from Express. I stole a headband from J. Crew. I stole a hat—”

Josh’s jaw dropped, “The list doesn’t end!” He turned to look at Sam, “This is a crime spree that the Zodiac Killer would envy.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. Then, suddenly, his legal and political mind caught up with the revelation, “I mean, you haven’t done any of this since you started working here, right?”

“No, of course not. This was years ago.”

Sam didn’t think it was possible for Josh to look any haughtier, “Then you can’t claim it hurts your feelings if there is some truth to it!”

“Yes, I can,” responded Donna defiantly, “Because it _does_ hurt my feelings.”

“Well I say you can’t.”

“Okay.” Donna turned to face Josh directly, looking him in the eye, “How about when you told me that my desire to be coupled up would always drown out what little sense of self-worth I had?” She gestured towards herself, “Can I say _that_ hurt my feelings, Josh?”

With that, the tension in the room returned. Feeling as though he was unintentionally privy to a private moment, Sam found himself praying that C.J., or Toby, or _fucking anyone_ , would crash through the door with some crisis that would end this special torture.

“Right,” Josh coughed awkwardly, “Well that was uncalled for, I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have said that.”

Donna raised her eyebrow, “ _And_?”

“ _And_ I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?”

“Hey—”

Sam thought it was best to quit while they were ahead and having brokered an apology, he decided to cut the renewed arguing off at the knees, “Right. Okay. It sounds like we worked through some things today. Now, how do we want to move forward? Do you want me to get you reassigned?”

It was Donna’s turn to sound indignant, “What?”

“Reassigned?” Josh broke in, “No!”

Donna gestured between her and Josh, “This is just…”

“Our dynamic. It’s…”

“Toxic,” supplied Donna.

“ _Unproductive_.”

“But it—”

“Works for us,” finished Josh, before glancing at Donna and adding shyly, “Right?”

Donna offered Josh her trademark grin, “Right.”

**Author's Note:**

> The original title of this story was "Couples Therapy." 
> 
> In the interest of full disclosure I should say the premise of this, as well as some of the dialogue, was shamelessly lifted from [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-CzwR9bDA4) of Conan O'Brien and his assistant. As they say, good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright.
> 
> Your feedback serves my ever present need for external validation, a need which will forever drown out my sense of self-worth.
> 
> If you're interested, come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://torn--and--frayed.tumblr.com/)


End file.
